"Have you picked a location yet?" Tony asked.
"Agents Barton and Coulson have shortlisted a few," Nick Fury replied. "They're conducting on-site inspections now."
He made no attempt to hide it. If this was to be an Avengers base, Tony had every right to know.
Four locations appeared on the screen—three nestled in mountainous terrain, one beside a river. Each was expansive, secluded, and ideal for redevelopment.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., purchase all four properties. Demolish any existing structures and rebuild from the ground up."
Tony didn't even glance at Fury before issuing the order.
"Understood, sir."
Fury said nothing. In fact, he welcomed it. With S.H.I.E.L.D. dismantled, he was effectively operating without funding. He had considered leveraging certain assets to secure a base, but Tony's financial decisiveness spared him the trouble.
"So I won't be sleeping on park benches?" Steve asked lightly. With S.H.I.E.L.D. gone, the apartment Fury had arranged for him was no longer available.
"Not quite," Tony replied with a mischievous grin. "Until the base is complete, all former S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel are technically homeless. However, I happen to know a place—premium rates, though. Not sure you can afford it."
---
At the agency office, Karl stared at the crowd filling his lobby, his expression darkening. The Ultimate Divine Weapon in his hand glowed faintly with heat.
"What exactly is this?" he said flatly. "Two of my tenants moved out overnight. Are you trying to provoke me?"
His gaze settled on Fury. He looked only seconds away from driving the blade straight through him.
"We didn't force anyone out," Fury replied evenly. "They left voluntarily. Didn't even request a refund."
Natasha had always lived in the building, and her lease wasn't up. But with Fury bringing additional people and no vacancies available, two tenants had conveniently relocated that very morning.
What persuasion Fury had used was unclear.
"Fine," Karl said at last. "Triple rent. That's the price."
Triple the rent here was enough to purchase a respectable apartment in Manhattan.
"Agreed," Fury answered without hesitation. "Funds will be transferred shortly."
Karl blinked. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters had just been obliterated—where exactly was Fury getting that kind of money?
"The source of funding isn't something I can disclose," Fury added calmly.
"I don't care where it comes from," Karl replied, resuming his seat and casually eating a strawberry sundae. "No payment, no entry."
The transfer arrived within minutes.
A professional cleaning crew soon followed to prepare the newly vacated apartments.
In truth, only Fury and Steve moved in. Coulson, Hill, and Sharon had accommodations elsewhere.
For the first time, Fury toured Karl's building in person. The rumors had not exaggerated. The interior design was among the finest in New York. Combined with its location and the subtle but formidable defensive barrier surrounding the property, it was arguably the safest address in the United States.
Steve was less particular about living arrangements, but even he was impressed.
His apartment and Fury's were adjacent to Natasha's. The three of them now lived side by side.
Natasha was less enthusiastic about that detail.
After settling in, Fury resumed his usual pattern of disappearing for most of the day, returning only deep into the night. Karl didn't concern himself with it. The rent had been paid.
That was enough.
---
A few days later, Karl visited the coastal villa Tony had built for him.
The location was spectacular—perched on a cliff overlooking the endless ocean, less than fifty meters from Tony's own home. The architectural style matched Stark's, though Tony's residence had softened in tone since Pepper moved in. Gone was the stark futurism; warmth and comfort now defined the space.
Karl's villa shared the same breathtaking view.
The only annoyance? Tony had integrated J.A.R.V.I.S. into Karl's home systems—limited to standard smart-home functions, but still intrusive enough to feel strange.
Every furnishing was custom-made. No two pieces matched anything commercially available. Even the pillow stuffing was handcrafted rather than machine-processed. When it came to luxury, Tony operated in a category of his own.
Outside, there were no visible fences.
There was no need.
Tony owned everything within a one-kilometer radius—including the beach below the cliff, where he planned to build a private party area.
Most of his high-performance vehicles, laboratories, landing pads, and hangars were now concealed underground. They could rise to the surface when needed, leaving the landscape above devoted to leisure: a racetrack, a horse stable with thoroughbreds Tony had owned for years, and a tennis court for Pepper.
It was excessive.
And entirely on brand.
---
Far from Earth, on an unnamed planet, a small spacecraft touched down silently.
A lone figure stepped out into thick fog and oppressive humidity. Superheated liquid geysers erupted intermittently from the ground around him. He moved cautiously, testing each step—distinguishing solid ground from thin crusts ready to collapse.
He wore dark red leather. Through the haze, his eyes glowed crimson like those of a predator.
At last, he reached a ruin.
As the mist thinned, his face became partially visible beneath a metallic helmet. The red glow emanated from its eye slits.
He withdrew a scanning device and swept it across the wreckage.
A holographic reconstruction formed in the air—lines and grids restoring the structure's former shape.
The ruins had once been part of an advanced city.
Now, it was nothing but desolation.
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